


Mac Gives Up Jerking Off

by goddammit_charlie



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammit_charlie/pseuds/goddammit_charlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac decides to abstain from masturbation. Dennis is unhelpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mac Gives Up Jerking Off

Mac doesn’t tend to visit the church while the service is in session. He doesn’t like to be surrounded by other people while he prays. He feels like they might somehow overhear his silent prayers, or glance at him and see his sin printed in neon letters above his head. Instead he likes to stop by in the afternoon when the congregation is long gone and the candles on the altar have melted into grotesque forms and guttered out. Then he will slip into an empty pew, lower his head to his clasped hands and pray for deliverance from the evil that shifted just beneath the surface of his mind.

Today, though, he has timed his visit badly. He hadn’t realised that a youth bible study group met at the church on Sunday evenings. A cluster of teenaged heads turn to stare at him as he approaches, and he retreats red-faced as they return to their discussion. They’re not stopping him from taking his usual place in the rows of unoccupied pews, but he feels too self-conscious now - he’d rather just head home. A fold-out card table catches his eye as he turns to leave, and he stops to glance at the display of pamphlets it holds. One of them is titled “Overcoming Onanism: A Guide to Fighting Lustful Thoughts”. He isn’t sure what Onanism is but fighting lustful thoughts certainly sounds like something he could use some help with. Peering around to make sure none of the teenagers are looking, he swipes a copy of the pamphlet and jams it into his pocket in one quick move before strolling back out to the street in the most casual way he can manage. 

Home in the privacy of his room, he takes the little book from his pocket and smoothes out the worst of the creases. His lips move slightly, silently forming the words as he reads. “How to overcome the temptation of masturbation and strengthen your relationship with God.” His eyes grow wide. He knew that being gay was a sin, but he’d always assumed that jerking off while thinking about women was fine with God. Suddenly he has a whole new world of repentance due. 

*

”Mac’s being even more annoying than usual lately,” Dennis muses, idly dragging his beer bottle across the bar to make patterns in a spilled puddle. Charlie doesn’t seem to be listening, standing atop the pool table to replace a light bulb above it.

”I mean it’s one thing to be grumpy all the time, but now he won’t even hang out with me. I tried to get him to watch Predator with me last night and he stormed off and spent the rest of the night shut in his room. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. What do you think Charlie?” 

”FUCK!” 

There’s a crack and a flash and Charlie is flat on his back on the green baize of the pool table. He sits up, dazed, and swings his legs down cradling his burned hand. 

"I don’t give a shit, Dennis. Maybe you could help or something rather than sitting there making more mess and bitching about your boyfriend!" 

Charlie storms off to the basement, leaving Dennis alone save for the one or two hardcore alcoholics who have decided the cheap beer at Paddy’s makes up for the erratic behaviour of its owners. Dennis glances around at them. 

”He’s not… we’re… ah screw it, like you guys are in any position to judge anyone,” he mutters, returning to his beer.

* 

When he gets home, Mac is on the couch scrutinising his worn leather Bible. He startles when Dennis enters, and slams the book shut. 

”…hey man?” Dennis greets his roommate with raised eyebrows. “Bit jumpy today?”

Mac shakes his head and runs a hand through his greased-back hair, trying to look relaxed.

”You just surprised me, I thought you were working all day.”

”Eh, Charlie was being a dick and the place was dead anyway, he can manage without me. You okay man? I haven’t seen you much this week.”

”Yeah I’m fine, I’m fine… you wanna beer?” Mac leaps to his feet and hurries to the kitchen. Dennis watches him with narrowed eyes. He glances at the bible on the coffee table. Something is folded between the pages.

”Yeah, a beer would be great,” he calls through to Mac, “but you know what I really feel like is an apple. We got any apples?”

”Uh, yeah, sure. Just give me a minute, I’ll peel you one.” 

While Mac clatters through the kitchen drawers in search of a knife, Dennis leans over and slips the pamphlet out from between the pages of the holy book. He skims it quickly, holding it in his palm ready to hide it if Mac turns around, and a wide grin spreads across his face as comprehension dawns.

”Holyyyy shit,” he murmurs to himself with an incredulous giggle. 

”What was that?” asks Mac as he enters with two beers in one hand and a plate of neatly peeled apple slices in the other. 

”Oh, nothing. Just thinking about what Charlie did earlier… the dumbass shouldn’t be allowed near electricity really…” He begins to describe Charlie’s mishap, slipping the pamphlet into his pocket while Mac is distracted by laughter. 

* 

Later that night Mac is in his room praying fervently when the sound of the TV distracts him. It’s not the TV in general that puts him off, but the voice pouring from the speakers is a familiar one and it’s the last thing he wants to hear right now. He climbs to his feet and ventures out into the living room.

"What do you think of that?" the recorded voice is saying. “Feels good, right?”

It’s Dennis’s voice, and Mac would recognise that tone anywhere. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to know that this is the pre-amble to one of his roommate’s sex tapes. He looks anyway, and sees Dennis, shirtless, giving a neck rub to a young brunette woman in a lacy black bra. The real, present-day Dennis is on the couch grinning at his on-screen performance. 

”Can you turn it down a bit, dude?” Mac’s voice feels strangled and shrill, and he hopes Dennis doesn’t notice. “Why are you watching that out here anyway? You’ve got a video player in your room.”

”Oh, sorry man.” Dennis fumbles for the remote and turns the sound almost imperceptibly lower. “It’s widescreen. Looking back on some old tapes for a bit of workout inspiration. My pecs were sweet back then, I need to get that look back.” 

To Mac’s horror, the real life Dennis is unbuttoning his shirt. He throws the plaid garment onto the couch behind him and strips off his T-shirt, baring his torso. Mac takes a step back, wondering how to excuse himself without seeming suspicious. Dennis flexes and peers down critically at his own body. 

”Yeah, I’ve definitely let it go since then. What do you think, bro? Shouldn’t take too long to get back on form, right?” He raises his head, locking his eyes on Mac’s and making a sweeping gesture at his chest. 

Mac swallows and looks around the room, anywhere but at Dennis (on screen or in the flesh). Dennis steps towards him and Mac flinches as a warm hand wraps itself firmly around his bicep. 

"You’ve been looking good lately, well-defined," Dennis says, giving the tense muscle a squeeze, "Have you been doing anything different? Any tips for me?"

Mac can barely think straight. He’s been doing so well at resisting all temptation and he hasn’t touched himself in eight days. Now Dennis’s bare body is inches away from him, he can feel its warmth and see every jut of bone and muscle, every rise and fall of his lungs, and his head is clouded with all the lust and sin he’s been trying so hard to pray away. His legs feel like rubber and he wonders if his knees are going to buckle beneath him. He tries to close his eyes, to count his breaths and try to divert the blood flow away from his dick by sheer force of will. 

”Are you okay, dude?” Dennis’s voice is sugary with concern, which would have rung immediate alarm bells had Mac been capable of rational thought at the time. “You’re not sick are you?” 

With his left hand still resting on Mac’s bicep, Dennis raises his right hand to clasp his palm against his friend’s stubbled cheek. 

"You’re hot," he murmurs. 

Mac swallows back a whimper and keeps his eyes clenched shut. He can hear his own pulse hammering in his ears and his rock hard dick is aching against the seam of his jeans. The hand on his cheek slides back into his hair and down to cup the nape of his neck, pulling him forward. He couldn’t resist even if he wanted to. He doesn’t. 

Dennis’s mouth tastes like beer and something slightly sweet. His tongue is soft but urgent, pushing against Mac’s, nudging him into response. Mac can’t stand there like a puppet with cut strings forever. He finally reaches out to place a hand on each side of his roommate’s narrow waist. He hopes Dennis doesn’t notice how sweaty his hands are as he runs them up over his ribs, across his pecs (perfect pecs, if anything even better than they were on the tape), over his shoulders and down across the taut muscles of his back. With Dennis’s smooth skin beneath his hands and Dennis’s warm tongue inside his mouth, he throws caution to the wind and grips the hipbones that jut above the waistband of his slim fitted jeans, pulling their bodies together from head to toe. Dennis stumbles backwards, pulling Mac with him by a fistful of T-shirt and a lower lip caught between his teeth. When he feels the couch against the back of his knees he starts to tug Mac down, but Mac resists for a moment to fumble hungrily at the button of Dennis’s jeans. He finally manages to get the fly undone and push them down, and Dennis kicks them off as he tumbles back against the cushions of the couch. 

With Dennis now stripped to his briefs and Mac still fully clothed, Dennis sets about evening things up by tugging his friend’s ridiculous sleeveless T-shirt up over his head, raking his carefully slicked hair forward into shaggy tufts. Dennis was being honest about one thing earlier - Mac did look particularly ripped lately. Muscles bulge and writhe beneath the surface of his skin and Dennis rakes his fingertips across them, making Mac arch his back and gasp when the nails tear ragged grazes into his back. Every touch is making Mac burn and he rocks his hips urgently back and forth like a frustrated teenager. Dennis grins and helps him to undo his jeans and push them down his thighs, no time to worry about untangling them from his legs. Briefs are swiftly pushed aside as well, and now that there’s no fabric in the way to muffle the friction of skin, Mac knows he isn’t going to last another minute. He bends to plant a long kiss on Dennis’s neck, and as the exquisite torture builds and every muscle in his body tightens, he can’t help sinking his teeth in to his shoulder, making Dennis cry out at the same moment that Mac finally gets his release. 

”Ah, fuck,” Dennis grumbles as Mac catches his breath, “that’s going to bruise.” Mac drops a gentle kiss on the indents his teeth have left, and reaches down to wrap a still-trembling hand around Dennis. He’s not going to leave his blood brother unfinished, after all.


End file.
